


The Businessman and the Hitman

by unshurtugal



Category: Glee
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crimes & Criminals, Family Drama, M/M, Rough Sex, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unshurtugal/pseuds/unshurtugal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine Anderson is propositioned by a gorgeous mystery man named Kurt in his father's nightclub, but as it turns out Kurt knows a lot more about Blaine than he lets on. Prepare yourself for a wild ride!</p><p>a/n: this was a collab I was doing with a friend a while back, but I decided to finish it :)</p><div class="center">
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            </blockquote>





	1. Mystery Man

Blaine shifted in his seat and glanced at the clock. His ass was falling asleep, and he has been sitting there for much too long. The music was too loud and the woman were just.. _too much_. But he had to stay, his father insisted. Blaine brooded, swirling the toothpick he had in his mouth, letting it glide gently over his lips.

"So what do you think, Blaine," his father asked cooly, sipping his scotch. He leaned into his son, his cologne absolutely reeking. The ice in his glass clinked together pleasantly but this visit was anything but pleasant.

"It's great," Blaine lied, picking at an imperfection in his tie. _So bored..._

His father didn't notice, too wrapped up in himself as always. "This will all be yours, someday."

Blaine managed not to groan in displeasure. Sure, his dad ran the most successful business in town, but the lights gave him a headache. And despite appearances this type of club didn't really suit Blaine's.. _tastes_.

"I'll teach you all the tricks of the trade." His father leaned back on the stool, proud and such a fool.

One of the strippers sauntered over, her unnaturally large breasts bouncing, tassels twirling. Glitter marked up and down her fit torso, but it was the opposite of everything Blaine found appealing. However, Blaine's father hummed in approval, slipping a couple hundreds into her skimpy bottoms.

"What will it be Mr. Anderson," she whispered seductively, leaning in to brush her lips against his earlobe. "The usual?"

_God, please don't make me watch this..._

"Maybe you can take my son Blaine to the back, what do you think about that Kandy? He has yet to become a real man." 

_Fuck anything but that..._

She quickly moved her attention toward Blaine and eyed him like he was a piece of meat, leaning over him in turn. She smelled like sweat and cheap perfume. Blaine tensed as her perfectly manicured nail scratched over his cheek before she straddled his lap. Blaine glanced helplessly to his father and noticed he was instead checking his $5,000 dollar watch, and looking conspicuously over his shoulder. Blaine saw that there were several men in dark gray suits beckoning him over from the far side of the club.

"Blaine, I've got business to attend to," he informed suddenly. "I'll back back within the hour."

Blaine nodded without a word. This was usual behavior for him, and by now Blaine had gotten used to it. Once his dutiful father was out of earshot, he patted the girl's arm gently.

"Kandy, could you please get off me," he asked politely as possible.

"Is something wrong," she quirked a penciled on eyebrow, pouting her fake, plump lips. She had begun her sultry dance, but Blaine's cock lay uselessly limp in his trousers. 

"Yes, I'm gay," Blaine sighed. "It's not you, just no girl does much for me."

Her heels clicked as she scrambled off his lap, appearing quite flustered.

"Oh, right." She looked uncomfortable. Blaine slipped her a couple more 50's into her palm to soothe her shallow fears.

"Don't tell my father, alright honey?"

She almost looked stubborn as she pulled a cigarette out of her heel and Blaine lit it for her.

"Shame, you're too cute to be gay," Kandy commented.

Blaine ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, I hear that all the time," he replied casually.

She shrugged and walked away, hunting for her next customer.

Blaine ordered a dry martini, pulling out his phone to check his calendar. He was so fucking bored, he couldn't stand it. He wanted nothing more than to just run away, away from all that he knew and all the people that could find him. Be a new person and make his own choices for a change.

After a few minutes, Blaine was getting the feeling he was being watched. He didn't like that, especially due to the nature of his thoughts. 

Blaine glanced up, sipping his drink and out of the corner of his eye he saw a lean, pale man with chestnut bangs sitting in a booth alone nearby, legs crossed elegantly. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, a bowler hat and sunglasses. This guy was clearly someone worthy of suspicion, at least in Blaine's opinion. It was already dark enough in this club already, without sunglasses. He wasn't even paying attention to the stripper working the personal pole in front of him.

Rather, he sat very still, tasting his drink as if it was something he had to do rather than something he wanted to do. 

Blaine knew he was being watched by this mystery man, but he didn't know why. The only clue was the angle of this man's acutely shaped jaw. Was his father in trouble? Was _he_? Blaine ran over a million different possibilities in his head as he had finished his drink and was ordering another when he felt a presence to his side. With a jolt of surprise, Blaine turned slightly to see the man in question leaning against the bar next to him. How did he make it over in such a short amount of time?

"I'll take a 'Piece of Ass.'" The man had one of the most melodic voices Blaine had ever heard, something he for some reason took care to notice despite his apparent jest.

Blaine leaned closer to him, feeling coy. "I don't think the dancers do that type-a thing here."

The man looked Blaine over before smirking at him, clearly pleased with the exchange. "It's a drink, Pretty Boy. It's So' Co', amaretto, and sweet sour mix. You should try it." 

Blaine didn't know what to say to this man.

He winked. "So Pretty Boy, would you like a Piece of Ass?"

Blaine's voice caught in his throat. Was he being hit on? Here of all places? Maybe that's why he was being stared at. He was being.. _pursued_.

Blaine suddenly felt warm and tingly. "Uh, sure. Why not? I'm Blaine by the way."

The man signaled the bartender to make another drink before shaking Blaine's hand, "I'm Kurt."

The mystery man named Kurt set his hat on the table, and slid Blaine his alleged 'Piece of Ass'. Blaine was suddenly very nervous. This had to be his first real date, if he could even consider it that.

"So, Blaine." Kurt took a long pull of his drink before continuing. Blaine watched Kurt's long throat bob up and down, eliciting dirty images that made Blaine need to cross his legs tightly in his lap.

"Uh.. yes?"

"So if you're gayer than a pink feather boa, what exactly brings you to a place like this?" Another smirk.

Blaine was shocked for a good long minute, finding it difficult to find words to explain. "My dad owns this place….how can you tell that I.. that I.. I'm.. _gay_?" Blaine's voice rose an octave as he hushed his dirty secret.

Kurt shook his head and chuckled quietly, swirling his drink. "I just know."

Blaine contemplated this for a few moments, scratching his incisors with his toothpick. "So what else do you know about me, Kurt?"

Kurt leaned his close, pulling his sunglasses down his nose. Blaine noticed his eyes resembled that of a galaxy. How was that even possible? Blaine yearned for this man in ways he didn't ever imagine.

"I know that I could kill you right now without anybody noticing," Kurt whispered brusquely, his minty breath washing over Blaine's face. Blaine shivered, and for some reason didn't even feel threatened.

"Why would you want to kill me," Blaine whispered back, voice ragged.

Kurt pulled away, his lips pursed as if he was displeased, covering his eyes once more with his sunglasses. "You really have no idea what your father really does for a living do you?"

Blaine was beyond confused. "Wh-What do you mean?" He squinted as if that would help him make more sense of all this.

Kurt let out a laugh an octave lower than his speaking voice. He stood to leave. "Enjoy your drink, Blaine."

Blaine, who was about to take is second sip of his drink, placed the glass down on the bar so fast it could have been on fire. He got up and followed Kurt, heart in his throat. "Did you do something to my drink? Who are you? What did you mean about my father?"

Kurt stood up straight, accentuating their height difference. "Look Pretty Boy, if you want to know, why not ask the old man yourself?"

"Or you could tell me," Blaine said stubbornly. He didn't know if he should be pushing this guy, the unease in his gut told him that already. The sudden threat of danger seemed apparent now that Kurt went from playful to serious.

Blaine floundered for options anyway, feeling reckless. "I'll make it worth your while. Anything you want in turn for information."

"Anything I want?" Kurt gave Blaine a once over, "What makes you think _you_ can give me what I want?"

Blaine deadpanned, business man in training. "Name your price."

Kurt swirled his drink again, smirking, before draining the contents. Kurt smacked his lips, taking his sweet time to answer. Blaine waited, trying come off as patient, but he was internally freaking out. Blaine has always noticed that his father took late night hushed phone calls and he disappeared sometimes, for weeks at a time, and never let Blaine know what he was up to. Instead of questioning it Blaine assumed it was just part of owning a business. How stupid he had been.

Kurt clearly knew a lot more about his father than he let on. He was just toying with Blaine.. getting to know him. This Kurt guy was probably a trained undercover cop or something. The possibilities were endless, and almost all were most likely bad.

"I can give you as much money as you want," Blaine reasoned, because Kurt still hadn't answered. Money usually swayed most people, right? That's what he's learned growing up.

Kurt shook his head, looking amused yet strangely resentful. "I don't need your money."

"Then what? Is my dad in some sort of trouble? Am I?" Blaine's thoughts came full-formed spoken words.

Kurt took a moment to step close to Blaine, his eyes glancing down to his lips. The hairs rose on Blaine's neck as Kurt reached up slowly, and almost delicately traced the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip. Then, suddenly he ripped the toothpick out of Blaine's mouth and snapped it. 

"No you're not in trouble.. _yet_."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Blaine recovered quickly.

"Word on the street is that you're taking over your daddy's business, and I can't let that happen." No trace of humor was left.

"I don't even know what he does!" Blaine protested, stamping his foot like a child.

Kurt studied Blaine, making him feel naked.

"You really want to know my price for some information, Blaine?" Kurt sounded thoughtful now.

"Yes, anything," Blaine responded sincerely, ready to jump on any opportunity to liven up his life.

Kurt took a deep breath and held it. "How about a good fuck?"

Blaine was sure his head just exploded. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I want you, on your hands and knees, taking my cock." Kurt stepped even closer, his eyelashes brushing against Blaine's forehead. Blaine could smell him, so sweet. He smelt like cinnamon, sandalwood, and something musky and manly. 

He was shaking. Was Blaine really willing to give up sex for information? What if it was a trap? He could be arrested for soliciting sex, and his father would definitely disown him then. 

"Are you a cop? I heard that if you ask an undercover cop if they're a cop, they have to tell you."

Kurt stepped back and laughed loudly, clutching his stomach. "Believe me, I'm not a cop. Though that is completely untrue. Cops can always lie to civilians, especially undercover ones." Kurt paused, sneering like he had been personally slighted by his explanation. "So are we gonna do this or not?" 

_Fuck it_. "Uh-uhm. y-yeah. The office, _his_ office. This way." 

Blaine turned, leading the way. His palms were dripping with sweat, making the slide of the key that much more difficult. He was acutely aware of all his movements, a messy jumble of questions clouding his brain and judgement.

Once inside and door locked, Blaine shifted back and forth. "So.. uh, do we kiss first or sh-"

Kurt silenced him by pressing his firm lips against the trembling ones of Blaine's. Blaine felt his nerves subside suddenly as Kurt traced his bottom lip with his tongue, his hot breath washing over Blaine's face. Blaine parted his lips and Kurt slipped his tongue in, hungry and daring. Kurt brought one hand to the back of Blaine's neck, pulling him roughly closer. His other hand gripped at Blaine's hip, pressing and insistent against his tucked jacket.

Once his shirt was pulled open, Blaine had to step back and take a breather.

"What are you so nervous about," Kurt teased, leaning back onto the desk casually. Kurt started unbuttoning his fine suit pants, eyes lazily falling on Blaine.

Blaine twisted his hands together, deciding whether or not he should be honest.

"I… well. Okay, I haven't been with many men, really. None, actually." Blaine bit his lip. "My dad has no clue I'm gay, he'd flip his shit if he found out."

Kurt smirked, tracing the line of his jaw as if he enjoyed the sensation. "Well no better way of coming out than fucking me over his desk," he offered.

Blaine's cock tented his slacks at the thought.

"No way he'd fucking find out." Though Blaine sounded unsure. "Are you positive you aren't a cop?"

Kurt laughed again, his eyes sparkling. Blaine felt like he could fall in love. "I'm the opposite of one baby, you've got to trust me."

Blaine exhaled, leaning against the door, checking to make sure it was locked. Kurt's eyes darkened with lust as he launched himself at Blaine, clawing at his skin. Blaine groaned deep and guttural as Kurt shoved his tongue in as if it was old hat.

Blaine's body was on fire. The many times that he slept with women just to please his father made him almost believe that sex was just a chore. But how wrong he was. He couldn't handle it, the fact that everything wasn't enough. Not the slide of their naked skin, or the soft tuck of their damp cocks as they kissed and kissed.

"I want you to fuck me," Blaine gasped, as Kurt nipped his way down Blaine's neck. "I want you to tear my ass apart."

The deep growl in Kurt's throat displayed that he was in full agreement. Without another word, Kurt stepped back and slowly, almost tormentingly, removed the rest of his clothing from his torso. Then without warning, he reached forward and pressed down on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's knees dug into the hard carpet, gazing wonderingly up at his lover.

"Suck," was all Kurt said before guiding Blaine's plump lips towards him, waiting.

Blaine glided his tongue along the underside of Kurt's cock, wanting to show off what he actually knew. He closed his eyes and traced the head before sucking it in between his lips, careful with each movement and so meticulous in his own way. Kurt let out a rough groan when Blaine ran the tip of his tongue through the slit and lapped eagerly at his precome, plentiful but not nearly enough. Blaine had seen his fair share of porn, so when he started to take Kurt deeper, he instinctively reached up and massaged Kurt's balls, quite eagerly.

He couldn't help that at some point he had to started fisting himself, because the pain in his own cock was becoming unbearable. 

Just as Blaine sped up, Kurt began thrusting into his mouth. However, Blaine pulled off, coughing. Kurt wasn't exactly lacking in the size department, and Blaine wasn't experienced at sucking men off.

"Sorry," Kurt grunted, fisting his hands into Blaine's hair, his cheeks flushed. "Don't stop."

Blaine obliged by sinking down on Kurt once more, hollowing out his cheeks and pulling tight suction. Kurt's legs started to tremble from the exertion of keeping his hips still. Blaine hummed around Kurt, taking Kurt in as deep as he could manage without gagging, wanting to show that he was actually worth something. He felt the tip of Kurt's cock brush his throat, and his heart hammered in his chest.

"Fuck yes," Kurt sighed, pulling Blaine's hair gently. Blaine itched for it to burn.

It was all sloppy sounds of saliva and sucking, the smacking of skin when Blaine dared to reach further back, searching for Kurt's hole.

Kurt gripped Blaine's wrist forcefully, stopping all movements in their tracks. "As I recall, it is I who will be fucking you, tonight. Get up." Blaine stood up quickly at the command, his body in rhythm with Kurt's needs. 

"Does this joint have lube?" It was an absurd question, but there had to be some somewhere. This was a seedy strip club was it not?

Blaine couldn't find his voice so he pointed to the desk drawer, haggling a guess that wouldn't be a bad place to start checking. It didn't take very long for Kurt to find what he needed. He then took Blaine by the hair and bent him over the same desk Blaine's father sat at regularly. Probably fucked a lot of girls here too. The thought ought to have disgusted Blaine but once Kurt's fingers were heartily lubed and rubbing against the tight rim of his asshole, he couldn't really find in himself to care all that much.

"You're not allowed to touch yourself or me. Keep your hands on the desk. Got it?" Kurt was all commands and all teasing and tongue.

"Yes, oh _god_ yes," Blaine rambled helplessly, willing his body to relax as Kurt pressed his fingers in, shivers rolling up and down Blaine's back at the delicious intrusion. 

"Looks like somebody's ready," Kurt sneered after a while of some deep fingering. He made with the condom wrapper, pinched the tip and rolled it on. It was time, and Blaine could scarcely imagine his luck.

"Please," Blaine begged, wriggling his lips and attempting to make contact because nothing was worse than this ache. He almost preferred his boredom of earlier, almost certain this had to be some daydream he thought up.

Blaine was sweating profusely, probably smudging the paperwork that was scattered all over his father's desk. Before entering, Kurt pressed himself along the expanse of Blaine's back and mouthed lightly over the curve of his neck and down his shoulder.

"I'm going to make you scream, Blaine." Kurt whispered into his skin. "And everyone will know that you're the one getting fucked."

Blaine smacked his forehead on the table in anticipation, crying out because he couldn't wait any longer.

"Remember," Kurt reminded him, his voice deadly soft. "You absolutely cannot touch yourself, or you will be punished." His syllables ended on a harsh snap of his wrist against olive flesh.

Kurt stroked Blaine's soft ass cheek to soothe the slap, pumping himself absentmindedly. He pulled his hand back and smacked harder, just for the hell of it. Blaine wailed, but it was all pleasure. And that's when Kurt finally pushed in.

Blaine kept reminding himself to breathe. Blaine dug his fingernails in to the wood of the desk. Kurt was relentless and timeless, that was the only way to describe it.

As Blaine's body rocked painfully against the sharp edges of the desk, moans soaking the room all of his own doing, he realized some his curls fell loose so he reached back to push them back off his forehead. Before he could do so, Kurt brought his palm to Blaine's ass again, so much harder this time. 

"I said no touching!" Kurt's voice was shrill as he gripped Blaine's hair, tugging violently at the roots, forcing Blaine's position back until his back was arched.

Kurt was fucking him so hard that the desk creaked against the floor. The bones of Kurt's hips slapped so rough into Blaine's ass he could feel bruises forming and tears running out of the corner of his eyes, but it was the best sex he knew he was ever going to have.

Kurt pulled Blaine back further, until their bodies were slotted together as if they were missing puzzle pieces. Blaine sighed throatily, but then Kurt's fingers found Blaine's nipples and pinched violently, clearly aware that Blaine must be enjoying this too much.

"Oh my god!" Blaine shrieked, rocking his hips down to get any pressure he could against himself. Kurt spanked him, but Blaine was almost numb. _So close..._

"Come for me," was all Kurt said, a kiss of a whisper and it was enough for Blaine. He came _hard_ across the desk in long streaks, hitting the lamp, files, and shooting across the keyboard. It was filthy, but each pulse was better than the last, and once he was spent, he was gone.

Kurt pulled out of him, still fully hard. Blaine was just jelly, barely even realizing he was being shoved to his knees again, the loud clicking of his kneecaps muffled by the buzzing in Blaine's ears. Kurt held Blaine's head by the hair with one hand and was pumping swiftly with the other. Blaine's mouth fell slack just as Kurt released, salty come coating the back of his throat, dribbling down his chin.

Blaine collapsed onto the floor, chest heaving. He swallowed, and almost gagged. "Fuck," he managed.

Blaine blinked and saw Kurt's soiled condom a mere foot away from his head, but he was too thoroughly fucked to move. Every cell in his body was exhausted. 

Kurt lit a cigarette, one of those fancy ones that Blaine's father occasionally smoked. "Pretty Boy, Blaine, you make the perfect little bottom." Kurt chuckled lightly to himself as he lounged naked in Blaine's father's chair, legs crossed over the desk, making more of a mess than there already was.

Blaine sighed deeply, still not caring. "What can I say, I'm as gay as they come."

It was quiet for a few moments except for Kurt puffing his cigarette, Blaine breathing heavily into the carpet. Was this what it felt like to be content?

Then came that sharp rap on the door that ruined everything.

"Blaine?" It was his father. "What the fuck is going on in there, are you alright?"

Blaine flew up to a standing position faster than he ever thought possible, and almost heaved due to his head rush. "Shit, fuck - _shit_."

"Unlock this door right now!" He banged a few more times, almost frantic. "BLAINE, YOU LISTEN TO ME-"

"Kurt," Blaine hissed. "Get dressed!"

However, Kurt looked completely relaxed, blowing smoke rings, and digging through his suit jacket pocket that was slung over the back of the chair. He pulled out a gun, shining sliver and cocked it.

"I have other plans." This smirk was deadly.

But Blaine was completely oblivious to all actions except for his own buttoning of suit until he felt a small prick on his already inflamed ass cheek. He whipped his head around and saw that Kurt was injecting a long hypodermic needle into his skin. He pulled it out and stuck the end to his teeth.

"I didn't mean for you to feel that," Kurt mumbled sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"What are you-"

Everything became fuzzy and Blaine fell, the world black.


	2. Missing Link

Blaine awoke several hours later, his head still in a haze. He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the clouds, noting that he was sprawled out on the floor. He groaned, the limbs and joints of his body cracking, and that's when it all came rushing back to him. Blaine looked around and saw that there was blood absolutely _everywhere_. 

After searching himself frantically, thankfully he couldn't find any wounds on himself, just all over his hands and clothes. _But what the hell happened?_ Last he remembered he was getting fucked to next Tuesday, then his dad came by, then Kurt had a-

 _Kurt!_ Where was he? Whose blood was this? Where was his father? In a dash, Blaine threw open the office door and ran out into the club, but the shifts had already switched. There was nobody here he knew or recognized as a familiar. Blaine received shocked and dumbfounded stares, just realizing now that he was still covered in blood and looked like a massacre in itself. Mortified, Blaine ran back into the office and broke into his father's closet, thankfully finding an extra suit his father kept pressed for him in there for special occasions.

It wasn't until Blaine finished washing his shaking hands and changing his soaked clothes, his mind whirring a million miles an hour he noticed something strange about the closet that he failed to notice many times before. Blaine made his way back to it and pushed aside the jackets and ties to find that that there was a trap door, almost cleverly hidden in the woodwork. Blaine opened it and gasped in wonder at what he found.

The trapdoor revealed many steps that plunged into darkness, a big bloody handprint on the handle. With trembling limbs, Blaine pulled out his cellphone for light and made his way down the narrow stairs.

There were cobwebs everywhere, and it was bitingly cold. Blaine's breath puffed out in front of him, labored and painful but he forced himself to keep going. He reached the bottom step and realized he was in a cavern under the club, quite vast it was almost awe-striking. There were rows of steel doors, and the only light came from a flickering wick. Blaine squinted saw two figures down the way, so he rushed over with much haste, a cramp pinching at his side.

There Blaine found Kurt, his clothes haphazardly put together and bloody, but that wasn't the most striking thing. He looked cooly confident and lithe, holding a gun to his father's head execution style. His father was tied up and blindfolded on his knees, begging for his life. Now Blaine saw where all the blood was coming from. Blaine's father was shot in the side, pulsing blood staining his shirt.

"Please, _please_ don't do this."

"SHUT _UP_ ," Kurt's voice echoed off the cold, dripping walls. Blaine froze in place. "I'm tired of hearing you talk! You need to pay for what you have done!"

"You can take all the dope, I'll sell out any of my best guys, just don't do this-" Blaine's father pleaded, gasping and sweating.

"That's not what I want." Kurt's voice was deadly. "I know what you do to the dancers who try to escape. I have to follow orders, I was hired for a reason."

His father changed is course of action. "I have son, he can't lose me, or he'll be taken out. Please I beg you."

"I see to it your son will be fine," Kurt promised, resolve washing over his expression. His gun clicked, his finger twitched on the trigger.

"NO!" Blaine screamed, reaching forward.

Kurt jumped at the sudden sound, causing his shot to go just inches over his target's head. Blaine ducked his head. "Fuck!"

Kurt and his father whipped their heads in Blaine's direction, despite the fact that his father was still blindfolded. The color drained from Kurt's face.

"Get out of here!" Blaine's father yelled immediately, body stiff and alert. "Go, son!"

"Kurt, you don't have to do this! Please, just let him go," Blaine begged, stepping forward, hands up in the air. "For me?"

"I don't take orders from you, Pretty Boy!" Kurt, scoffed, aiming the gun again. The candle glinted just right off the barrel, and Blaine's stomach dropped.

"Kurt please! _Anything_ , I'll do anything!" Blaine started to cry, overcome by his confusion and despair. "Just… that's my dad. He may not be perfect but, _he's my dad_. Don't you have parents? What would you do if it was one of them? Please Kurt, _please_ -" 

Blaine moved forward again, more cautiously. Kurt tensed, but yet he met Blaine's eyes. They both got lost, and the only sound was his father's ragged breathing.

The arm that Kurt held the gun in, fell slightly, his eyes glazing over. Kurt then shook his head a moment later and regained his composure, his eyes becoming dark and hard. "No Blaine, if I remember correctly, you already gave me what I wanted. I got to pound that sweet ass of yours all over Daddy Dearest's desk. This is my job. Don't make me turn this into a double hit!"

Blaine flinched at Kurt's words as if he was struck. But his father tried to distract him.

"Blaine, listen to him. Just get out of here and pretend you never saw any of this," he commanded with a slight shake in his voice. Always so strong and sure. "JUST GO!"

Blaine turned to leave, still utterly torn. How could he let his father be killed for something he didn't even really understand, but how could he just let them both die too? He wanted to listen to his gut, but the tone in his father's voice was telling him that it would be a very stupid idea- 

Hold on. Blaine turned back to Kurt, "Wait! You didn't keep up your end of the bargain. I let you fuck me, so now you gotta tell me who you are and why you're here. Sex for information, remember?"

Blaine was triumphant while Kurt glared for several long moments before sighing irritably. He placed the gun back in its holster, and now Blaine could breathe freely.

"Fine," Kurt attested. "But let me do something first." 

Kurt grabbed Blaine's father's arm and dragged him to one of the large steel doors as if he was a large rag doll. 

"Open it!" Kurt demanded, voice sharp.

"Will you keep my son safe? Can you promise me that?" Blaine had never heard his father use such soft affection in his voice before. There were times Blaine had to consider the fact that his father might not even genuinely care about him. It made his chest ache. But Kurt ruined the moment by kneeing his father in the chest.

"Do as I say before I change my mind!"

Coughing up blood, Blaine watched his father place his hand over a scanner and the door opened, the steel loud and clanging. Before Blaine could peek inside the container, Kurt threw his father in, turned off the security and pulled the door down with a loud bang. Kurt then faced Blaine, appearing weary.

Blaine folded his arms. "Okay, Kurt.. start talking."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but there was banging on the other side of the steel door.

"I can't believe you solicited my son for sex - _fucking sick_ -," his father screamed, slightly muffled through the door. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Kurt reached into his holster in one swift motion and shot at the ceiling. There was a silence.

"Kurt, I need answers," Blaine chanced, barely breathing.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose, agitated. "What do you want to know?"

The most obvious of questions. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare," Kurt gritted his teeth, clearly on edge. "I'm a hit man. My boss sends me on missions to kill people who deserve to die."

It took a while for Blaine to process something like that, because when did hitmen have any sort of code? Didn't they just kill people for large sums of money? No matter who they were?

"Well who the fuck does your boss think he is, he's not a god! That's not for him to decide who and who not to kill!"

Unexpectedly, Kurt shoved Blaine against the concrete wall, hand wrapped tightly around Blaine's throat. Blaine struggled to breathe, the rough material digging into his spine. Kurt looked livid, absolutely terrifying. His face was all narrow and filled with rage, spitting his words through his teeth.

"You don't have a fucking clue about anything do you? Your dad is a fucking sleezebag. A pimp. A murderer. A dope dealer. The streets, this world would be cleaner and safer without him."

Blaine fought, gasping but no air passed through his windpipe. His eyes began to water, his arms flailing. Was this how he was going to die?

But Kurt released him at the last, horrifying second.

"I don't believe you," Blaine choked, falling to his knees. He rubbed his neck and wheezed.

Kurt smiled cruelly, pointing his gun toward the steel door that Blaine's father was trapped behind. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Curious, Blaine got up and walked hesitantly towards the door, Kurt leading the way. Once reopened, Blaine saw his father cowering on the floor but he was quickly drawn to a whole other sight. There were rows and rows of a strange lab equipment. Used beakers and stained tubes. It smelled _awful_. On either side of the room were also boxes and cases by the stack, seemingly endless when the container pitched to darkness at the end. Blaine walked over to one of the boxes and peered inside. He saw a series of endless vials filled with a brown, murky liquid, ready to ship.

"Dad? What the hell is all this?" Blaine went to his father, pulling off the blindfold. "Dad?"

His father looked dejected, blinking up at his son and looking utterly defeated. "It's heroin."

Blaine expected to not have anything to say to that at all, but it all came bubbling up.

"So it's true? You traffic drugs? And the prostitution? The _murders_ \- is it all true?" Blaine felt like his whole world was falling apart. Was this seedy life all ready to be set up for him? What if he refused? Would his father kill him?

Kurt stood back and remained quiet. A silent shadow of truth.

"Son.. I am so sorry I hid all this from you, since it will be your business someday. It wasn't fair of me."

"W-w-wait, you're only sorry for not telling me? You're not sorry for being a total piece of shit or for breaking so many laws? I can't believe you! How could you? Who have you killed?" Blaine rose in anger, tears streaming down his cheeks. _Was it Mom?_ Blaine never knew what happened to her. "You know, Dad, I wouldn't want this fate for you-" He gestured to Kurt, "But you deserve to rot in prison for a long time. I bet there is so much more I would rather not know."

Blaine then stormed out of the container and down the dank corridor. He was halfway up the stairs before he heard his name being called, echoing off the eery walls. He turned to see Kurt running after him. "Blaine! Blaine - _wait_. I'm sorry…for all this. Normally I don't let emotions get involved but there's something about you that just makes me take pity. So, if you're willing to cooperate, I have an alternative."

Blaine rose an eyebrow. "I'm listening…"

Kurt rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He almost looked pained by his decision, but there was no going back.

"I can maybe take your father to my boss directly, and see what he thinks. I don't really call the shots, but there are worse guys out there than your Dad who are more deserving of my bullet. He isn't the king pin anyway, so it seems."

Blaine crossed his arms. "He's a bad person, I don't even want to know what else there is to find down here."

"Hopefully no dead hookers," Kurt joked. Blaine stared, clearly not amused.

Kurt coughed. "Okay.. so what do you think?"

"Why don't you just hand him over to the cops, wouldn't that be moral?" Blaine offered. That wouldn't be so bad wouldn't it?

Kurt mindlessly stroked his gun before putting it back into its holster. Blaine eyed it, wondering when it was going to come back out again.

"We should avoid that option because your Dad is one of the higher ups, they've got nothing on him, that's just how this system works. Plus, I'm a shadow to the cops, they can't know about me. And worst of all, your whole life would be uprooted for the investigation."

Blaine threw his arms up in frustration, and started walking up the stairs again, but he wasn't really meaning to leave. He just wanted to do.. _something_. "I really don't want any part of this, I just want a normal life!"

Kurt grabbed his shoulder to stop him. "I'm afraid that's not possible." Kurt smiled sadly.

Blaine sighed. "Well, let's go untie him and take him to your boss I guess." It seemed like the only viable option left in his mind.

They made their way down the steps and to the cavern once more, shoulders brushing. It reminded Blaine of a million years ago, of Kurt's cock inside of him, they way he was touched. Clearly, Kurt was on the same wavelength.

"Hey, so after all this is over, mind if we have a little encore of earlier?" Kurt chuckled flirtatiously.

However, Blaine didn't respond because once they reached the heroin cargo container his father was gone.


	3. Sins of the Father

"SHIT!" Kurt ran his fingers through his hair before turning to punch the wall. He hissed in pain but brushed it off on his pants as if he didn't just fracture his knuckles against concrete. Blaine meanwhile whipped his head around frantically.

"But - he couldn't have gotten far! Let's go!" Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and dragged him out to the corridor. He tried not to notice how soft Kurt's skin was, and how it made his heart skip for reasons other than his father being missing.

But before Blaine could enjoy it much longer, Kurt ripped his hand away and took the lead, lengthening his stride that outmatched Blaine by far. Winded, Blaine stopped suddenly, staring down at his empty hand.

"I can't do this," Blaine announced, his voice hollow. "I can't hunt down my own father. I can't help a hitman. I can't… I-" Blaine started to hyperventilate, his face numb and fingertips tingling. Kurt huffed loudly and made his way back, placing his hand on Blaine's shoulder.

"Blaine, I need you to calm down." 

Kurt stared Blaine right in the eye, grounding him, shaking him. "Look, if we don't find him, my boss is just gonna send someone else. And trust me, that someone else wont be so easily swayed by dreamy hazel eyes and a nice ass." Kurt looked into Blaines eyes a bit longer before he pulled away, barely managing a smile.

Blaine felt his heart flutter again, and couldn't help cursing himself as he followed Kurt deeper into the cavern.

"This just doesn't make any sense," Kurt grumbled to himself eventually.

"What doesn't?" Blaine questioned, his anxiety heightening again.

"Your dad just up and disappeared, and the only known way out is the trapdoor, but there was no way he could have gone that way so fast," Kurt insisted. "There _must_ be another way out of here."

Kurt pulled out a small LED flashlight and turned it on, peering into the blackness. Once the rows of steel doors ended, it just looked a like a cold, dripping stone wall. Kurt made his way over and studied it closely.

Blaine followed uncertainly. It was just a wall. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?" He sounded distracted, his lip downturned into a concentrated frown.

"You really think taking my dad to your boss would be a good idea," Blaine asked, eyebrows creased with worry. "I mean, since you're a trained killer, your boss must be better. He probably won't care about my sob story."

Kurt rubbed his neck before turning to Blaine, flashlight limp in hand. "Trust me, he'll understand," he said vaguely. There was an edge to Kurt's voice that made it seem like he was telling the truth. So Blaine just let it go for now.

"C'mon," Kurt said decidedly. "Let's just make our way through the bar, clearly we'll never figure out this secret passageway, if there is even one."

Once up through the trapdoor, Blaine realized that his father's office was still covered in blood. This realization slapped him in the face, because there was no way that one gunshot to his father's gut would be so gruesome. There had to be bodies of others, or more mortally wounded... somewhere.

"Kurt, who did you kill?" Blaine's voice shook, dreading the answer.

"Scum," Kurt spat, a deadly assassin once again. "Don't worry about it."

 _How could I not?_ Blaine mulled, but he bit his lip and kept quiet.

The club was eerily still. What happened to everyone, Blaine was just here? All the dancers and customers were gone, and Blaine soon figured out why.

There were a pile of bodies by the door.

"OH MY GOD," Blaine screamed. "Oh my god."

He repeated it over and over. How could Kurt be so careless? Tossing people aside like they were garbage? How has he not been caught by now?

"What is it now?" Kurt was starting to get agitated.

"You _killed_ people! I mean I know you kill, but actually seeing bodies… I…. you're no better than he is! You're a murderer! Cold-blooded and heartless!" Blaine pulled away from Kurt, fear truly starting to set in for the first time. A taste he never experienced before quite like this.

"Blaine, it's my job. I only kill people who deserve to die." Kurt was saying it so simply, as if he was speaking about a matter as pointless as a visit to the grocery store. Blaine felt his stomach twist in revulsion.

"No one, _no one_ deserves to die! What the hell kinda theory is that? There is no morality in that! It's just all subjective! How do I know that you're not just using me to find my dad and then you'll kill us both?" Blaine wrapped his arms around himself, wishing himself anywhere but there. "And to think I was actually start to think you felt something…"

Kurt stepped towards him, arm outreached. "Blaine-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Blaine exploded, not sure whether to run or stay still because Kurt could easily shoot him down.

"Blaine, I would never hurt you," Kurt implored, sounding almost desperate. "I.. don't think I could if I tried. Not now."

Kurt paused for an uncomfortably long time. Blaine counted the beats of his own heart. 

"I already told you, I'm gonna do my best for your dad," Kurt finally said, softer now. "I know I haven't given you any real reason to but.. I need you to trust me." 

Kurt held his hand out as an offering.

Blaine's eyes darted between Kurt's outstretched hand and the one holding the gun. He knew that his options were limited, and there was only one clear choice in mind.

He took Kurt's hand. "I don't trust you, but I just want my father to be safe."

Kurt sighed, but still looked relieved. "That's better than the alternative, I suppose." Kurt's expression softened as he looked down at their clasped hands, smiling shyly. Once again, the moment could only last so long.

Suddenly they heard a car peeling out of the parking lot, and Blaine instantly recognized the sound of the screeching wheels. "It's him! Please tell me you have a car."

"What kinda hitman would I be without one?" Kurt joked before dragging him to a sleek and black unmarked sedan. They got in and Kurt was off in a flash.

Blaine dug his fingers into the leather seats because Kurt was driving at a frightening speed, though maneuvered magnificently in a way Blaine didn't realize possible. Blaine glanced around nervously, seeing the speedometer tick over 80 mph at points, even in this narrow city streets. 

Yet Kurt was hot on his father's trail, no matter what kind of stunt he tried to pull. Kurt's face was set and determined. He was used to the hunt. This was what he was good at. Every fiber of his being relaxed and focused on the target.

Seeing Kurt like this chilled Blaine to his core. There was much more to Kurt than met the eye. It was clear he had layers, and this one was that of a cold-blooded killer. Blaine panicked and wondered if Kurt was still playing him. Sure, at the time when Kurt took his hand, his eyes softened and his smile was genuine, but all traces of that were now gone.

"Fuck," Kurt snarled suddenly, grabbing the review mirror, his fingers turning white.

"What? What is it?" Blaine whipped his head around, throat tight with panic. Another sleek black sedan simliar to Kurt's was tailgating him, flashing the highbeams.

"We're being followed," he growled.

But taking Blaine completely by surprise, Kurt pulled over after only a minute of being pursued, turned the car off, and banged his head on the steering wheel. "Fuck fuck fuck _fuck_."

The other car stopped as well and Kurt's forehead was bruised. Blaine flipped around in his seat and saw the driver side door open and a large figure stepped out and made their way towards them, shrouded by the beam of his headlights. Kurt got out of the car as well in an oddly formal fashion. What was going on?

"Stay here, don't move, don't talk," Kurt commanded before slamming the door in Blaine's face.

Blaine watched with wide eyes as Kurt and the mysterious figure seemed to get in some sort of argument. He then saw the figure pull something out towards Kurt, but before his brain could stop his body, Blaine opened his door and yelled, "STOP!"

He didn't want to watch Kurt die, not tonight. _Not ever._

Kurt froze at Blaine's exclamation, but the other, who was a tall man with a balding head, in a tailored suit similar to Kurt's turned to look at him sternly. "You're taking hostages now? You really have gone rogue. You let your target get away, you let him leave the club alive. Care to explain? What the hell Kurt? And who is this?"

Blaine saw that the object the man had was a small PDA. He relaxed slightly knowing it wasn't a gun and he wasn't about to shoot Kurt. 

Kurt looked defeated, waving in the general direction of Blaine. "This is Blaine. The target's son. Boss, there's been a change in plans. Blaine's been helping me track his father, we were going to bring him to you. Maybe there was an alternative to killing him…"

So this is the Boss, Blaine realized. The Boss stood up straighter, his shoulders broad and powerful as he demeaned his employee. "You've gone soft! What the hell could have happened- oh wait, I get it. It's this boy. You developed some sort of feelings, haven't you? Kurt you know the rules, 'DON'T GET INVOLVED' and 'NO EMOTIONS' are two major ones."

The Boss was breathing heavily, his voice raising with each word, sweat visible on his brow.

"You should calm down," Kurt said, clearly concerned. He reached out and touched his elbow, gently, as if Kurt cared deeply about him. Blaine thought that it was a little weird. What kind of operation did they run here?

"Like hell I'll calm down! You're jeopardizing everything for some kid? The target's son nevertheless! I thought maybe you were a little smarter than that!" Spit flew from the Boss' mouth.

"Please," Kurt's voice cracked slightly, lines of his face drawing distraught. "Dad, your heart."

Blaine was contemplating making an escape now better than ever when he finally heard. "Dad?"

This man was Kurt's father. It all made sense now.

"Well, this is weird," Kurt mumbled sheepishly. "Uhm, Dad, this Blaine. Blaine, this is my boss... well, my dad too."

Kurt's father didn't introduce himself, clearly preoccupied.

Blaine just stood there dumbstruck for so long he missed the rest of the exchange and before he knew it, they were in the car and Kurt speeding off again. When Blaine finally came to his senses, he realized they were no longer following anyone, or being followed, but instead pulling into what looked like a car shop. The sign as they pulled up read: 'Hummel's Tires and Lube'.

"Kurt, where are we?" Blaine wondered, not understanding. "I thought we were catching my-"

"My father invited you to plead your father's case. You do well, we'll let him stay alive. If not, he'll send someone else to hunt him down and finish the job." Kurt stopped the car and turned to Blaine, looking grim. 

Fear flared in Blaine's stomach. He was never a good public speaker, he doubted this would end up in his favor. Regardless, Kurt pulled him into a hug and gently rubbed his back. Blaine sat stiff, not sure how to react. 

"Don't worry," Kurt whispered into his ear, chin on Blaine's shoulder. "My dad isn't nearly as intimidating as he seems. I wont let anything bad happen, I promise."

 _How could you promise that?_ Blaine wanted to ask, but the words never came.

They made their way into the tire shop hand in hand, pace slow and deliberate. Kurt was rubbing soothing circles into Blaine's palm, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. He had no idea what he was walking into now; the mouth of the lion's den.

Blaine noticed that many of the cars in the garage were not ones that were there to be fixed or worked on. Quite the contrary. They were probably undercover cars, they were way too nice for the lay person.

Kurt walked determinedly toward the end of the room, where Kurt's boss-father sat under a bright lamp that shined off his balding head. He sat stoically, his sunglasses glinting and his face was impassive. He kept fiddling with a large ring on his right hand, his gun placed neatly next to him.

"Blaine Anderson, you are here to defend the case of your father," his voice boomed around the room.

Blaine cowered behind Kurt. "Y-yes."

Around the corner of some scaffolding, two figures emerged, one appeared to be struggling.

The taller wore a neat suit and sunglasses as well. He smiled wolfishly at Kurt.

"I picked up the trash for you, Kurt," the young man sneered. "Since you get your emotions in the way like a fucking rookie."

"Fuck you Finn," Kurt snapped, lip pouted slightly.

The one called Finn just chuckled, shoving the other to the floor. Blaine realized it was his Dad, handcuffed and with a mouth gag. He appeared to not be bleeding anymore, hopefully a make-shift bandage at the very least to stop the flow of the wound. When his father saw Blaine, his eyes bulged and he struggled to say something through his restraints.

"Shut the fuck up you piece of shit," Finn kicked Blaine's father hard in the ribs. "Nobody told you that you can speak!"

Finn spat on the heaving body, curled up in pain. Blaine made to go help, but Kurt stopped him, a death grip on his wrist. He gestured toward his boss, his lips pressed tight as he nodded minutely. Blaine gulped, trying to ignore his father's whimpers of agony.

Kurt's father sat up straight and laced his fingers together and cleared his throat.

"Give me one good reason why my other son shouldn't just kill your scum-of-the-earth father right now in front of you?"

"Please don't," Blaine begged. "He's my Dad, I don't want him to die! No matter what he's done!"

Kurt's father took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Blaine noticed that despite his intimidating demeanor, he had kind blue eyes. Like Kurt.

"He needs to pay for what he has done," The Boss said quietly.

Blaine stepped toward him, arms flailing. "And killing is the answer? It's not a solution, it's a problem! Look at the death penalty, it doesn't help our country in the slightest!"

Finn cackled. "Oh so the boy thinks he's knowledgeable of our justice system.. hilarious! We should just kill him too!"

The Boss shook his head very slightly, effectively silencing Finn. Blaine decided he didn't like Finn.

"We have a higher form of proof than what those fucking ridiculous rednecks call justice. We clean up the streets, we're free to the taxpayer's dime and we make the world a better place. Tell me, son, how does this make us the bad guys?"

Blaine stammered for a moment. "Killing just doesn't need to be the answer to everything! It's wrong!"

"So you don't think what your father is doing is wrong?" He inquired softly.

"Of course what he does is wrong! That's why I'll never take over the business! Let's just send him to prison and shut the whole thing down!"

The Boss smiled sadly. "Well I'm glad we don't have to kill you too, for the sake of my son. But such a feat is very difficult, Blaine. Would you be up for it?"

Blaine huffed out, setting his face. "Yes, I'll do anything. Just say the word."

The Boss stood up quickly, his gun disappearing into the folds of his suit.

"Let's get to business."


	4. Sense of Normalcy

The actual closing of the club was the simple part. Blaine felt bad for the people who would lose their jobs, but it was for the best. 

Finn, the Boss' other son and employee, was in charge of hunting down the dope dealers to inform them the ending of a contract with the promise they would be paid off. Blaine really hoped no more killing was involved in that, but Finn did seem a little trigger happy. 

Blaine and Kurt were left to disposing of the evidence. They needed just enough left behind to convict his father but not enough to get him the death penalty. The best way to do that was to leave the drug evidence, but rid of anything more sinister than that.

With shaking hands, Blaine went from room to room in the cavern under the former strip club. Most of the rooms had drugs; cocaine, meth, heroin.. but they reached one room at the very end on the right that absolutely reeked. Kurt broke into it with difficultly and then went in first, mask in place.

The room was poorly lit and the air was thick. It reminded Blaine of a horror movie. The cement floor was covered in dried blood. There were also gun shell casings scattered around, and in the corner of the room there was a large furnace.

"You know for such a professional, he did a shitty job cleaning up after his crimes," Kurt pointed out with disdain. 

_Says the guy who leaves dead bodies laying around_ , Blaine thought. Like Kurt was one to talk. Was he trying to be funny?

Blaine wasn't laughing though. He was staring at the furnace as he put the pieces together. Dried, cracked bones were all that remained in the hearth. 

"He burned the bodies?" Blaine felt sick and the feeling over took him. He threw up on the already soiled ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. A concerned Kurt ushered him out of the room.

"I'll take this job up myself. You go sit down," Kurt told him, prodding Blaine gently.

Blaine went back into the small corridor and leaned against the wall, hands on his knees. Suddenly all of his strength left his body and he fell to the floor in tears. It was too much. Who was his father killing and why? The prostitutes? Why would he? Maybe he should have just let them kill his father. Maybe it would have prevented the killing of more innocents.

So many questions, and no answers.

An hour later, Kurt returned to his side, removing his rubber gloves. He had a sour look on his face.

"Come on, let's go. We did the best we could to keep him from the death penalty or even more felony charges," Kurt informed, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I need to change."

The drive back to the faux tire shop was quiet. Once inside, Kurt led him to the back, their feet echoing off the hard floor. There was a secret door and tunnel that led to a house, and Blaine couldn't even find in himself to be surprised at this point. They headed up the stairs to a cozy bedroom, supposedly Kurt's.

"Here, sit in here while I take a quick shower. You can change into a pair of my sweats if you want." 

Kurt went to the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants, handing them to Blaine. Kurt rubbed his hair back off his forehead and kissed Blaine gently before departing for the bathroom.

Blaine changed his clothes slowly, unable to concentrate on anything other than the horrible things he had witnessed today. He was afraid he was never going to forget, and nothing but awful things would plague his dreams for the rest of his life. Then, he crawled under the covers Kurt's bed and started to cry.

Kurt found Blaine 15 minutes later in the fetal position, his cheeks wet with tears. Kurt immediately crawled in behind Blaine, enveloping in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt murmured, fingers brushing over Blaine's ears, neck, arm. "It's all going to be okay, I promise."

"It's not going to be okay," Blaine protested, tears streaming down his face. "My whole life is a lie!"

Kurt just pulled Blaine closer and let him cry and cry. Kurt didn't know how long it went on for, but once Blaine was out of tears he started dry heaving. Kurt had never seen anything so pathetic, yet so heart-wrenching. For the first time in a long time, he felt helpless.

"Blaine!" Kurt grabbed a hold of his face and forced him to look him in the eye. "You need to stop this now, you're making yourself sick!"

Blaine stared back and finally melted into Kurt's touch. His breathing slowed and his breath became less ragged with stress. Kurt's gaze was relentless as he started to stroke his cheekbone soothingly. Blaine closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

"Thank you, Kurt," he said meekly, his voice barely there. "If I didn't have you, I'm not sure what I would have done."

Kurt's throat closed up as he tried to swallow the lump of emotion down. They were quiet for a few moments, just looking at each other.

"What happens now?" Blaine asked eventually. His voice sounded so juvenile and innocent Kurt wanted to cringe. Blaine trusted him so much, yet he was just a killer and nothing more. He wasn't a protector, or a lover. Nobody could love Kurt, and Kurt couldn't love; he wasn't human enough. That was the price paid of being a killer.

"The cops have probably already taken your dad away at this point," Kurt responded honestly. "They might call you in for questioning within the next few days. My father's people saw to it to turn him in quickly and painlessly."

Blaine sniffled. "Is it okay if I stay with you until then? I can't go back home."

Kurt began shaking his head. "Blaine, I don't know if that's a good idea-"

"Please, Kurt. I need somebody. I need you." Blaine clung to him like his life depended on it.

There was no winning this battle. Kurt pressed their foreheads together and sighed, "I'm here, Blaine."

There were like that for a few moments before Blaine leaned in and pressed their lips hesitantly together. Kurt kissed back gently, like Blaine was fragile and could shatter at any moment. Their lips moved together in synchronization, softly without any tongue. Blaine relished in the fact that Kurt's lips were smooth and comforting, and he could literally just do this the rest of the night.

He wrapped his leg around Kurt's hip to pull him closer, until their bodies were flush together. Kurt's hand twisted in the hair at the base of Blaine's neck, the other still stroking his cheek.

Blaine's tongue traced Kurt's mouth, asking for entrance, before his lips parted and granted access. Their tongues slid together smoothly, causing Blaine to shiver in pleasure. Warmth soaked his stomach, and he momentarily forgot all the pain.

Without hesitation, Kurt's hand went from Blaine's curls and began rubbing slowly down Blaine's back until he cupped his ass, bringing their hips together into a slow grind. They groaned together, hard instantly.

Kurt broke the kiss, coming to his senses. "Blaine, I don't think we should do this, you're really vulnerable right now-"

"Shut up." Blaine silenced him by crushing their lips together once more, the heat behind it much more desperate and needy. He rolled Kurt over and pinned him to the mattress underneath him. Blaine climbed on top of Kurt, holding his wrists above his head, not letting Kurt move.

Kurt's mouth opened in shock as Blaine kissed his way down Kurt's neck. Their last encounter was Blaine being completely and utterly submissive, so this was much different. But Kurt really liked it. He hadn't been in such a position in a long time. His job required him to be constantly on alert, extremely careful and in control of every situation. So this was exactly what he needed. He was more than willing to let Blaine take advantage.

Blaine reached the area where Kurt's neck met his shoulder. He sucked and bit, leaving a dark bruise against his pale skin. Kurt let his eyelids flutter and his mouth part in a breathy moan. He could help but push against the pressure of Blaine's wrists, to bring themselves closer.

"I want your cock baby," Blaine murmured shakily against Kurt's damp skin. Kurt didn't have time to respond as Blaine worked his way down Kurt's chest, giving experimental swipes of his tongue, causing Kurt's back to arch gracefully.

" _Again_ ," was all Kurt could manage.

Blaine pulled the soft pink nub between his teeth and nibbled just enough to get Kurt squirming. Then, he moved to the other side and mirrored his actions, his cock pulsing hard against the firmness of Kurt's stomach. Blaine glanced up and pressed the flat of his tongue all the way down Kurt's stomach, cool pricks of his hair standing on edge as his flesh pimped. 

Blaine reached Kurt's pants and gave the hot bulge an appreciative squeeze before he hooked his fingers under the waistband, coy smirk in place. Then slowly, Kurt pulled the pajama pants down and off, shivering with the muffled sound of them hitting the floor. Blaine scratched up Kurt's sides and inhaled deeply, leaning down to trace the contours of Kurt's cock with his tongue. Kurt smelled amazing, fresh and raw at the same time. 

"Please quit teasing me," Kurt drew out in frustration, taking advantage of his free hands to fist his fingers through Blaine's curls. 

Eyes wide, Blaine watched the entire time he sunk down around Kurt's thick length, lapping and eager until Kurt's head brushed the back of his throat. Kurt pulled on Blaine's hair and hissed pleasurably when he felt it, wanting to fuck down deeper and make him choke. Blaine's eyes started to water, but he willed himself to relax, wanting to be perfect for his Kurt. 

Blaine ran his palm up Kurt's clenching abs, working his mouth up and down in a practiced motion, hallowing his cheeks and sucking a tight hot vacuum. Blaine reached his other hand down to tease at Kurt's testicles before slowly going further to Kurt's asshole. He circled his finger there experimentally, undeniably aroused. 

Unlike last time, Kurt didn't protest. To Blaine's immense pleasure he instead whined pitifully, bucking his hips into Blaine's mouth and spread his thighs further, the muscles jumping with anticipation. Blaine moaned around Kurt at the sight, rutting into the mattress because he couldn't take it anymore. 

Kurt grabbed Blaine's head more tightly, thrusting roughly into his mouth, and Blaine let him. Kurt's eyes were blown wide at the sight of Blaine's pump lips stretched wetly across his cock, red and abused. Kurt didn't even feel pain when Blaine pressed a fingertip into his hole dry, crooking and massaging. 

" _Fuck_ , Blaine-" 

Blaine pulled off Kurt with an obscene pop before running the tip of his tongue through his slit, relishing in the taste of pre-come, licking further down under the arch of Kurt's cock, rubbing over each contour, vein and bump. With his other hand, Blaine spread Kurt's fleshy cheeks apart, his finger still working in aching motions, but made enough room to lave his tongue there, where Kurt needed him most. 

Kurt cried out, reaching down to squeeze his own cock. 

"So good, Blaine, _so good_ ," Kurt mumbled, his brain utterly useless. "Don't stop. _Ever_." 

Blaine pressed his face flat against Kurt, tonging deeply, working Kurt open with the assistance of his finger. Blaine never imagined doing something like this with someone, but he also has never done anything more erotic. And what surprised him was that the taste is what did him in most, making him feel like he was close to coming. Especially hearing Kurt panting and feeling Kurt writhing above him made his mind flood with pure lust. 

Kurt yanked on Blaine's hair again, quite forcefully this time, pulling him up for a kiss. Their teeth clashed and Kurt plunged his tongue insistently into Blaine's mouth to taste himself, frustrated that Blaine was still clothed. 

"Fuck me, please," he whimpered after they broke apart, biting Blaine's neck. 

Blaine couldn't help but grin as Kurt ripped his shirt open, nails clawing to get Blaine's bottoms off. "Really?" 

"Yes, really," Kurt hissed, bucking and growling. 

Finally, seconds later, yet much too long since the last, they were gloriously naked, sliding together.. touching, _feeling_ with utter need and desperation. The anticipation of fucking into Kurt was so high that Blaine was trembling from head to foot, his entire body drenched with sweat. But Kurt didn't care.. he had to reach down and force Blaine's cock between the split of his ass cheeks, just for a start. 

"D-do you have any condoms?" 

Kurt groaned in frustration, digging his nails into Blaine's hips, his ass-cheeks cupping around Blaine's length, jerking him slowly. "No I don't, just - just _do it_ -" 

A shiver ran down Blaine's spine at the thought of barebacking, so he resolved for just searching for lube. But Kurt gripped his jaw before he could look for long, forcing them to make out all teeth and tongue. Blaine almost forgot who he was. 

"I swear to god Blaine now if you don't fuck me now I'm going to fucking kill you," he growled, sinking his teeth into Blaine's shoulder, sucking brutally. 

"I… I d-don't want to hurt you." 

Kurt's eyes looked crazy, his hair plastered to his forehead. "JUST DO IT!" Kurt swung a leg over Blaine's shoulder, bowing backward, completely exposed. The fleshy pink rim of Kurt's asshole, still shining with saliva made Blaine lose his breath. 

But Blaine didn't - couldn't - waste time staring, so he spit in his hand and lathered his cock for good measure, aligning and pressing against Kurt hole until he was inching in. Kurt threw his head back and exhaled raggedly, his eyebrows and forehead pinched tight and mouth slack. Blaine gripped his waist, fingertips leaving indents to keep himself in control so he wouldn't wreck Kurt before he needed to. 

Once Blaine was fully inside Kurt, he tried to pause to allow Kurt to adjust, but Kurt started to roll his hips, the palm of his hand smacking the round slope of Blaine's ass. "MOVE! God, Blaine. I just need… _fuck me_ -" 

Blaine nodded, pulling back slowly only to snap back in. Kurt grunted and his leg loosened, falling more open. Blaine's hand found it, and forced it up unto his shoulder, his stomach twisting at the realization of Kurt's extreme flexibility. He fucked deeper and harder with each go, so infused with Kurt's pleasure that nothing but them was reality. Blaine couldn't stop staring at him, and in response Kurt grabbed at the back of his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss, both of their breathing labored. The kiss was filled with all utter desire.. yet there was something else that Blaine couldn't quite distinguish, but he really liked it. 

"Blaine, touch me," Kurt begged, his voice desperate. Blaine moved his hand from Kurt's waist and wrapped around Kurt's cock in between them, moving his wrist in rhythm with his hips, bringing Kurt closer to the edge. He could feel the pressure built up at the head, come leaking and wetting Blaine's aching hand. 

"I'm so close," Kurt sobbed, fucking up and then down, fist to cock to ass and Blaine _hammered_ him, all his muscles on fire until- 

Kurt tensed as he came hard over Blaine's hand, shooting up both their chests. Kurt clenched so tight that it almost hurt, but that was all it took. Blaine came inside Kurt, choking on pleasure and stars in his eyes. Blaine hummed and shivered with Kurt as their contractions of pleasure subsided, and when Blaine pulled out he rolled onto his side and cuddled up against Kurt's chest. They were both spent. 

"Thank you, I really needed that," Blaine finally said tiredly, wiping the sweat from his upper-lip. 

"Thank _me_? Thank _you_! I haven't bottomed in years, and I've never had someone take control like that, and I actually let them. It was amazing... _so_ nice to give up control like that once in a while." 

Kurt sighed contentedly before placing a soft kiss on the top of Blaine's head. For a while they were like that, breathing in each other. Blaine cuddled into Kurt's side, nuzzling into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Kurt felt messy and stick but he really couldn't find in himself to move. He pulled Blaine closer, feeling his breath ghost over his sweaty chest, making goosebumps rise pleasantly. 

Eventually, Blaine's breathing slowed and he twitched as he fell into a deep sleep. Kurt traced mindless patterns into Blaine's skin, but despite wanting to fall asleep for an eternity, he lay fully awake. 

Unfortunately, the quiet left Kurt too alone with his thoughts. 

This was the most time Kurt has had to himself in a really long time. The job required constant stress and attention with unending clients because this world was a disgusting place. It was just sad that even in Ohio alone, the job was never sufficient enough. There was always more crime, hate and violence. That's was just the nature of human beings. 

Kurt eyed his gun laying upon his nightstand. The green lights of his digital clock gave the pistol and eery glow, the minutes ticking away. Kurt's pager hadn't gone off in hours since he finished cleaning out the cavern, he realized. 

His father was probably angry with him. Even though Kurt was his biological son, he found more practical use in stepson, Finn who was a dangerous weapon, but never strayed from orders. Kurt was used to never failing, but something about Blaine was making him stir to his core, forgetting himself and his upbringing entirely. 

Kurt was changing. It was a slight change that meant something bigger than it was, but he didn't want to do this anymore. And it was clear why. Kurt was aware that killing repulsed Blaine, and he had this strange innate desire to make Blaine happy. And Kurt wanted to cease all actions that would do so otherwise. 

So Kurt eventually realized he sort of wanted out of the family business as soon as he possibly could, but he really had no choice in the matter. This was not something you could just quit on a whim. He had a duty to his father and society. A responsibility. 

But the more Kurt thought about it, the more the thought terrified him. This was all he knew. He was a killer, and he has always been fine with that; even come to terms with it that his family was just this way. He was excellent at what he did, they all were and this Blaine was ruining it for him. _All of us._

The most practical option would be to throw Blaine out on his ass and never see him again. Maybe offer him up to witness protection so Kurt would never be tempted to find him, because he would never know. However, the pain in Kurt's heart revealed the truth. He was falling for this doe-eyed would-be-conman, and there was nothing to stop it from happening. 

*** 

Blaine woke up the morning, alone in Kurt's bed. He felt cold and abandoned. In daylight everything looked different. This was a strange place now, not his home. He was naked and exposed. Raw from his night of despair and passion. 

Did Kurt leave him there without a second thought? Where was he? Blaine got up and found his pants (well actually they were Kurt's pants) and headed down the stairs. He looked around the house, not sure what to expect to find. Shockingly, it was so _normal_ looking; no one would ever guess that a family of killers lived there. 

Blaine shivered at the thought. _Kurt was a killer_. He almost forgot that fact, and he vowed to himself never to forget again. 

Soon enough, Blaine found the kitchen and to his relief, saw Kurt sitting at the island counter drinking a cup of coffee. 

"Hey you," Kurt greeted warmly, expression and demeanor gentle. Was this a dream? "Wanna cup?" 

"Sure, thanks." Blaine took the mug that Kurt grabbed him and he poured his own coffee. 

"Cream and sugar?" Blaine nodded silently, and Kurt got up and got them. 

"Blaine," Kurt began, sounding anxious, effectively making Blaine's stomach drop to his knees. "About last night… I just… uhm-" 

"What?" Blaine cut in, his voice hard. Kurt avoided eye contact, and Blaine tensed himself for rejection. 

"You can stay here as long as you want." 

Blaine breathed, absolutely elated. He cursed himself for being so needy. 

"Thank you, Kurt, but you really don't have to do this for me," he finally said, almost sounding casual. 

"Blaine," Kurt sighed, shaking his head as he stirred his steaming drink. "I think it's pretty damn obvious that I'd do anything for you." 

With the way Kurt's eyes bulged afterwards, it was clear he didn't mean to say that out-loud. Blaine felt like he could fly. "I mean, like - I - _shit_." 

Blaine blushed with Kurt but decided to change the subject, for his sake. Blaine took a sip of coffee. "So... what do you for fun?" 

Kurt shrugged and gestured around his pristine kitchen. Blaine was now very curious what he did other than his day job. "None of us are ever really here. I don't really get much free time to be honest." 

Blaine felt slightly uneasy knowing why, but he shrugged it off. "Well if you really wanted to do something, and had the time to, like now, what would you do?" 

Kurt tilted his head and daydreamed about his lost youth, and how he wished to watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat sugary cereal like a normal child, instead of taking long rides out to the middle of nowhere with Finn and his father at the crack of dawn, being trained how to shoot and detect explosives.. then come home to a freshly cooked meal by Carole, which could be possibly poisoned if she felt like testing them further that night. 

"Nothing," Kurt decided. 

"Nothing?" 

"Fucking _nothing_. I just want to sit down and relax. Maybe put in a movie, snuggle under some blankets and order in later. I've never really done that before." 

Blaine's mouth fell open in shock "You've got to be joking! You haven't lived!" 

Kurt raised a questioning brow. Blaine was acting like an excited puppy about to get a treat the way he was bouncing in his seat, offering up great films they could choose from. Kurt would never admit in public how endearing he found it. 

"Wait, what kinds of movies do you have?" Blaine asked as he made his way over to the entertainment center, expecting to see only horror films or action thrillers. There was a large, sleek flat screen connected to the wall, but it was dusty from disuse. 

"I'm not sure if we have any," Kurt admitted, opening up the cabinet to find it empty. "But we do have cable." 

"Why pay for something you don't use?" Blaine wondered. 

"Because as tenants here we need to appear normal," Kurt explained, shrugging. 

"Oh." Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "Let's just order something off of Pay Per View or something." 

Kurt cooked some popcorn and boiled water for hot chocolate while Blaine flipped through the channels. "Phantom of the Opera! I love this movie!" 

"Sounds good to me," Kurt agreed indifferently, enjoying the feeling of no responsibilty. He could just.. _be_. Do nothing and just be with Blaine. It was absolutely amazing, all the prospects. Perhaps he could get used to this. 

Kurt grabbed the fuzzy throw blanket off the armchair, pushed the ottoman close to the couch, and snuggled close to Blaine as the movie started, the dreaded commercials finally at an end. 

Blaine leaned in and kissed the tip of Kurt's nose during the title screen, and then giggled before throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. Kurt felt this weird playful urge to steal the popcorn and run away with it, but he didn't act on it. Instead he just grinned stupidly at Blaine, embarrassed at how carefree he felt. 

"I'm really happy you're here," Kurt said honestly. "You make me feel like a real person." 

Blaine frowned slightly. "You are a real person." 

"I know, but you know what you mean," Kurt stammered, looking away from Blaine, blushing _again_ for some ungodly reason. 

Blaine placed his finger lightly under Kurt's chin, forcing Kurt to meet his gaze. "I'm really happy I'm here too." 

Kurt watched the movie, amazed by the music, acting and the visuals. He heard Blaine humming along with the songs, but when 'All I Ask Of You' came on, he heard him sing fully. Blaine had a _beautiful_ voice. Absolutely enchanting. Kurt closed his eyes and listened, knowing that if he were to die now, he'd be okay with it. And although he'd never admit it to any living person, Kurt's heart was so warmed by the song that his eyes began to water. 

A few songs later, Kurt heard a familiar tune. "I know this one! It's 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again'! My mother sang it to me when I was little. I can't believe i remember, it was so long ago..." Kurt trailed off, too choked up to continue. 

Blaine shifted to look Kurt, eyes wide and full of caring. "Kurt, you're crying…" 

"Sorry, it's just… I don't think about her very often," Kurt confided, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. "She died when I was 8. We tried to keep music in the house, but when I got older, I guess we all grew cold. Doesn't help that the family business is killing…." Kurt's voice fell, feeling miserable. He wanted to be someone else. "I'm so sick of being dead inside." 

Blaine paused the movie and pulled Kurt into his arms. "This," He wiped a tear from Kurt's cheek. "Is more than enough evidence that you are not dead inside. In fact, you are an amazing person. Just look at everything you've done for me.. you've saved my life, my father's life, too." 

Kurt buried his face into Blaine's shoulder, and let himself sob it all out. He let anguish over his mother and his wasted life go until Kurt was ready, and he pulled back. 

"You are so beautiful," Kurt whispered reverently. 

_***_

When the movie finished, Blaine put on a mindless television show. Blaine used his iPhone to look up nearby restaurants they could order food from. They decided on Chinese, and they were so hungry that they pretty much ordered the whole left side of the menu. 

They snuggled up on the couch again, pulling the blanket up to cover their shoulders. Kurt's place was very cold and not very homy, but Kurt's presence made Blaine not want to be anywhere else in the world. At least the couch was comfy, too. 

They kissed lazily for some time, because they knew their food would take a while. Kurt had never felt so content in his life. He couldn't even remember a time where he felt anything remotely like this. Like he was falling in love. Kurt found it tragic, darkly humorous and beautiful at the same time that they had met under such grave circumstances. It was really one for the books, or some awful play about star-crossed lovers. 

Their lips moved together smoothly, and once in a while Kurt would dart his tongue out to dance playfully with Blaine's. Blaine ran his palms up Kurt's forearms, up his neck and tangled softly in his hair. Kurt lightly massaged Blaine's shoulders, pulling him closer and tangling their legs together as he straddled Blaine's lap. 

Blaine ran his hands down Kurt's back to rest on his hips as he leaned down flat on the couch. Kurt followed him, nipping playfully at his lips. That was when the doorbell rang. 

"Don't go," Blaine whined, making gabby-hands. "If I get to kiss you the rest of the night, I'll go hungry without complaint." 

Kurt laughed, getting up gracefully, grabbing his wallet and padded to the door. Kurt unlatched it and threw the door open, his smile falling immediately when he saw it wasn't the delivery man. 


	5. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence and mentions of rape

Blaine waited for Kurt to return with their food, a silly grin plastered to his face. His cheeks felt warm and his heart felt light. Honestly, how could it get any better than this?

But after a little while Blaine got up to see what was taking so damn long. He fished in his pocket for his wallet just in case Kurt didn't have any money. However, when Blaine got to the front door, he saw Kurt with his arms up and an unfamiliar, bulky young man holding a gun point blank. Kurt was just staring back into those crazy, cold eyes. 

An all too familiar fear flared in Blaine's stomach. "K-Kurt? What's going o-" 

"Blaine, go back to the other room!" Kurt's voice was harsh like a whip, but it was the first time Blaine detected remote fear in it. He wanted to listen, but he was rooted on the spot.

"Aw, come on Kurt, aren't you gonna invite me in," the gunman teased, cocking the barrel to the side. Kurt's eyes followed, full of hate.

"What are you doing here Karofsky?" Kurt asked calmly, backing slowly as the man named Karofsky eased his way in, bumping the nose of the gun into Kurt's chest.

"We got unfinished business, Hummel. As you know, you killed my partner. Blood for blood," he drawled, voice deep and threatening. "So it looks like I owe you the same justice."

Karofsky shifted his aim, a wicked twinkle in his eye. He was pointing his gun at Blaine instead. Everything inside Blaine froze.

"Azimio deserved it!" Kurt practically shrieked at the change in the situation. "Just leave Blaine out of this! Please, I beg of you. I was the one who killed him, not Blaine. Just _please_."

The fact that Kurt got so hysterical made Blaine almost certain he was going to die. He closed his eyes, allowing tears to leak down his cheeks. This was it.

"No, Hummel. I got to even the score, you know that as much as I do." Blaine heard the gun click, locked and loaded. His heart plummeted, reaching out in his last desperate moment for Kurt's hand-

"Come on, Karofsky," Kurt said quickly, yet in a reasoning tone. His hand gripped Blaine's like a life-support, and Blaine gasped, opening his eyes. "The only way this would even the score would just be between you and me. Well.. unless you and Azimio were fucking? Because a thing I do know is how much you love a big man and big cock up your-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT!" Karofsky screamed, locking his gaze on Blaine, sweat dripping down his crazed brow. "You're both gonna rot in hell!"

Before Blaine could blink he was being shoved to the floor, Karofsky holding him by the collar while the tip of the gun was shoved harshly against his temple. Blaine cried out, losing grip of Kurt and his last, precious moments. He squeezed his eyes shut and began to pray, allowing his lip to tremble and snot flow freely. He didn't know who he was praying to, but he hoped that anybody, _anything_ would listen. He really didn't want it to be the end, he had so much more life to live...

Kurt was sobbing, Blaine could hear him now. And it broke his heart. "Please I beg of you, don't do this!"

Karofsky cackled, spit flying against Blaine's face. "You should have thought of that before you killed my partner! Actions have consequences, _Kurt_."

"He deserved to die!" Kurt wailed, as if repeating the same thing would make things better. "What you two do and did is is just.. _wrong_! The only reason _you_ aren't dead is because my Boss hasn't pegged anything on you... yet."

Blaine didn't understand how Kurt saying these things would help, but all he could do was wait for the end.

"Kurt.." Blaine whined, blinking through his tears. He saw a young man who looked more uncertain than ever, loosening his grip and lowering his gun - and... Kurt slipping his fingers deftly into his back pocket, wrapping his palm around his trusty knife.

There were sudden footsteps.

"So.. I've got a Mr. Hummel with an order of-"

It was the Chinese delivery man, and his words died in his throat. That was all Kurt needed, was a small distraction.

Karofsky flipped around, startled, his eyes red and shining. His finger twitched and he fired his loaded bullet, shooting the man through the chest. Wide-eyed, the delivery man looked down at his blooming wound, moaned, and then fell to the floor dead. He was still clutching the bag of food.

Blaine screamed.

"Oh fu-" And those were Karofsky's last words. Kurt came up from behind, swift with cold eyes, and slit his coratid artery. Blood started spurting from Karofsky's neck, and he gurgled obscenely before collapsing to the floor. A pool of blood quickly formed, and Blaine backed away. Kurt let his socks soak as he stood over Karofsky.

"You don't know how long I've waited to do that," Kurt whispered, and then spat on the body.

As much as Blaine scrambled, there was just too much blood. The hems of his pants turned red.

"Kurt.. what did you do?" His voice shook.

Kurt touched Blaine's shoulder, expression turned from murderous to concerned. It was serious whiplash. "Blaine, it's okay. He's gone now," he said gently.

Blaine, however didn't think any of it was okay. He flinched from Kurt, gaped at the gory scene of the two dead men again before he turned around and retched violently onto the floor.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried out, gripping his shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"How could you do this!" Blaine shrieked, pointing a damning finger. "What is wrong with you?" He started crying, his throat burning with stomach acid.

Kurt looked at Blaine like he didn't understand anything at all."He killed an innocent, Blaine. He deserved to die. He.. he wouldn't have stopped there, it would have only gotten worse!"

Blaine wiped his mouth and turned to shove Kurt away. Hard.

"Just.. stay away from me," Blaine said before he got sick again, but this time there was nothing left in his stomach.

Kurt finally let it dawn on him now that he was no longer in fight-or-flight mode. Blaine now knew for certain he was a monster. He was fooling himself playing fucking house today. "Blaine.. I'm so sor-" 

Is this what his life had become?" Blaine gasped, sniffling and infuriated. "Falling in love with a cold-blooded killer?" Kurt hung back miserably as Blaine cowered on the floor just inches from his own vomit. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't will himself to move. He stared unblinkingly at the dead body across from him. "Why?" Blaine sobbed. "Why, _Why_ \- WHY?" Blaine kept choking it out over and over again, banging his head against his fist. And Kurt just let him. He dropped his knife and sank to the floor. But Kurt had to explain himself, to try and make Blaine understand.

"Blaine, I'm so sorry… he was.. he was _going to kill you_. He did kill that innocent delivery man. And there have been so many others. I _had_ to stop him," Kurt crawled toward Blaine with pleading eyes. "If you had any idea what he has done.." "Why does it have to be you?" Blaine countered, refusing to even look at Kurt. "I know you think I'm a monster," Kurt said softly, voice dark and almost emotionless. "But Karofsky was the monster. A _real_ one. He and his partner used to kidnap gay men, women, transgendered alike and beat them and torture them within an inch of their lives and then leave them for dead. They had their own sense of justice. His partner, Azimio, slipped up though, because nearly killing someone wasn't enough for him. He started returning to finish off their victims, just in case they were to survive. We could only prove that one of them was truly guilty, but Karofsky wasn't much better. I think he was the main instigator. But who else but me to do the job? I'm the only one that can."

Blaine still wasn't satisfied with the answer.

"You still killed him.. _in front of me_. How could ever expect me to forget that or forgive you?" Blaine let his gaze fall to his hands, red with Karofsky's blood.

They were both quiet for a long time, lost in their own despair.

"I was one of their victims," Kurt finally said, voice low and dead. Blaine glanced up in shock and saw Kurt's eyes glaze over and his already pale skin went even whiter. "They cornered me.. they dragged me out into the middle of nowhere and they beat me. And I just took it. I was so _weak_ back then." Kurt took a deep shuddering breath and continued his haunting tale. "When Azimio left, Karofsky came back and he… he….he deserved this. _He did_. Finn found me and took me to the hospital. But I never forgot." Kurt pulled his knees to his chin and let years of pain out. His being raped is what made him today, and he hated that. He hated himself more than he did Karofsky.

Blaine felt even more sick than before. He didn't know what to think, or how to feel, but seeing Kurt utterly broken like that shook him to his core. It was just so heart-wrenching. This was all so.. _fucked up_.

In the short time they've spent together, Blaine had known Kurt was many things, but none of which were a victim. He never even thought to consider it. Kurt didn't even have to say exactly what Karofsky had done to him, enough was said. Blaine could only guess, but he really didn't want to know.

Pity and sadness overwhelming him, with shaking limbs Blaine crawled over to Kurt, trying to ignore the pool of thick, congealing blood. He wrapped his arms around Kurt, holding him close, and they began rocking together on the floor. Blaine cried with him.

He cried for himself. He cried for Kurt. He cried for his father. He cried for the dead men on their floor. He cried for the sake of the world. Everything was just.. ruined, and as much as Blaine wanted to live a normal life, he knew that was impossible now. After seeing something like this, he knew he was forever changed. He was tainted by violence. He never asked for any of this, and Blaine didn't know whether or not to blame his conman father.

"Kurt, son, it's time to get up," a gentle voice said above them after an immeasurable amount of time. Both boys wiped their eyes and saw Kurt's father standing above them, eyes full of sympathy. He held out a hand and helped them up into a quick embrace. He patted Blaine's shoulder and looked him right in the eye.

"Go wait in the other room while my son and I clean up. I am so sorry you were subject to this."

Blaine smiled. He felt like he surfaced a different person. For some reason this once foreboding man looking at him with his kind eyes made Blaine feel so much better. Like there was some sanity and reason left in the world; even hope. And just maybe the business wasn't just about killing. It was about family. It was about justice.


End file.
